


Curtains Close

by RandomFanfictions



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Blood, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Mays dead already, Near Death Experiences, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Self Harm, Suicidal Peter Parker, Suicidal Thoughts, Tony Stark Has A Heart, ansgt, canon divergence - post Spider-Man: Homecoming, i am the angst queen bow down to me, tony stark is iron dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-03-21 09:32:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13738041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandomFanfictions/pseuds/RandomFanfictions
Summary: Days were a blur of black and white. Living wasn’t worth it anymore.He was getting sloppier, he would only catch himself seconds before it was too late, silently wishing his calculations would be wrong next time and fought carelessly earning more injuries.Peter Parker doesn’t want to live this life anymore.He wants it to be over.Who will catch him when he falls?





	1. Let Me Fall

**Author's Note:**

> IM SO PISSED OFF I WROTE LIKE 600 WORDS ALREADY AND I LOST ALL MY WORK SO ITS EXTRA ANGSTY BC OF THAT.

Wednesday. 

Exactly two weeks since May Parker had a heart attack and died. 

Peter sat perched on a rooftop, watching the city below him as the wind blew softly in his tawny brown hair. 

He had woken up in the middle of the night to get water, but instead found his aunt dead on the floor. He didn’t know what to do, he called an ambulance and ran. He grabbed only his suit and a spare set of clothes in his backpack and ran. 

The teen felt guilt rise up inside of him, he hadn’t even gone to her funeral. He made a fist and felt his fingernails dig into his skin. He didn’t stop until he knew he drew blood. 

His phone had been nonstop buzzing the first weeks. Hundreds of texts from Ned, several calls from MJ and dozens of calls from Mr. Stark. He ignored all of them and shut his phone off. Peter tore apart his phone and his suit, looking for the trackers that Mr. Stark had no doubt placed in them. When he found the two, he crushed them between his fingers and threw them into a lake. 

He doesn’t want to be found. 

A distant scream pulled Peter from his thoughts. He placed his mask back upon his face again and took a jump to the street below him. At least now he can beat up his frustrations. 

When the vigilante reaches the source of the screaming, he sees as three armed men are trying to mug some woman. It’s obvious from the tattoos stamped on their arms that they’re apart of some bigger underground crime network. It’s easy for him to web them up, but he’s been more reckless in his fighting earning him a bullet hole through his leg and a few shallow cuts on his torso.

Peter took a mental note to look out for that tattoo on other criminals as he fled to take care of his wounds. 

“Several cuts on the abdomen, the deepest is a quarter inch and none are life threatening. Your left leg has been shot, the bullet is not inside but it is still recommended you seek immediate medical attention. Would you like me to contact Tony Stark?” Karen’s cool robotic voice fills his ears but Peter grits his teeth and tells her he’s fine.

The teen spends the rest of the night fighting, pretending his injuries don’t exist only giving him more. When the night is finally over it’s nearly three in the morning. When he peels back his suit to change back to regular clothes he can see the bruises of varying degree paint his body head to toe. Wounds are already mending themselves, leaving nothing but faded scars as a memory. 

In a sick twisted way, Peter likes the way the bruises feel and how his torso bled. It was almost like his own way of paying for the grief he’s costed so many others. He shouldn’t be standing right now, he should’ve been dead ten times over, and secretly he wished he was. 

Peter Parker has lost so much. He has made others lose so much. Being hurt, getting injured. That’s his way of feeling better about it all. Hopefully one day he’ll die on the job. 

A bittersweet laugh escaped the fifteen year old’s lips. Imagine that. Spider-Man dead. His blood staining the floor of Queens. Imagine the looks on their faces when they see he’s just some kid. Imagine the look on Mr. Stark’s face when he sees him dead. 

Funny enough, the thought of it all brings a smile to his lips. 

How would he die, suicide or murder? Would it be an enemy who defeats him or a friend that tips him over the edge?

All these thoughts swirl around his head. He finally changes clothes, still sitting on a rooftop he makes a hammock from his webs and lays down, relishing the way his body aches in protest. 

He’d give anything to watch himself bleed again. 

—————

The next morning, Peter stretches in the morning sun. If he had been in a better state of mind, he might’ve even enjoyed the sunrise.

‘ _Just one more day. Let’s make it through one more day_ ‘ he tells himself, trying to find just an ounce of motivation. 

Even before May had passed, it was a miracle he could even get out of bed. He had so many depressive episodes it was kind of funny. He didn’t ever let May see though, it would break her heart, and Ned couldn’t know either. So Peter just had to keep going hoping that maybe one day the sun would shine again. 

He grits his teeth and watches the sky above. Ironic, being in the worst state of mind while the world around you glows. God, it’d be so much easier to just jump off the building, yet Peter holds back. Not yet. 

Looking down at the people below him, he decides. If he fails to save one more person, the guilt would be too suffocating. So many people have gone out on his watch, he can’t keep going on. The curtains have to close. 

One more person gone and then he’ll jump. 

He smiles. 

“It’s time to start the day.”  
—————

Over the next few days Peter had almost died thirteen times exactly. The closest call was yesterday when he almost bled to death because his healing factor slowed down due to starvation. Unfortunately it was still fast enough to save him. So close. 

Now he swings his webs, head pounding, searching for the next person to save. When he finally spots an armed robbery at the bank, he runs in while black spots dance around his vision. 

“Um, if you’re going skiing, I don’t think this is the right place, people might get the wrong idea” he jokes, trying to blink the spots away

The robber just aims his gun at Peter and takes a shot. He narrowly avoids it by flinging himself to the left. 

“Come on dude, you can aim better than that!” He challenges the criminal 

Another bullet flies his way, this time grazing his cheek, ripping some of the mask from his face. He shoots a web to grab the gun and another to keep the man’s hand in place on the counter. 

“Okay you got closer to the target this time, but I’m going to need this” Spider-man tells him, trying to hide the fact that he could collapse any moment now.

Two men show up from behind him, his spidey sense delayed, and one aims for him while the other holds a hostage at gunpoint. It hits him in the torso as he spins behind to see them. Peter faintly hears Karen inform him that he needs medical attention right now. He ignores it of course and holds his arms out trying to assess the situation in front of him. 

“Put the guns down guys, just put them down and we can get through this” he says. They only tighten their grip. 

The man holding the gun to a hostage’s head blurts out “Step back or I shoot!” 

Peter hesitates, but moves backwards as the woman held against her will cries out.

“Don’t _fucking_ move!” He shouts again. 

The next few seconds go by in a blur. The robber holding the woman shoots while the other guy with his aim on Peter takes his own shot and the man behind him, all webbed up, managed to call their ride and now they had their car ram through the glass walls to make for a distraction. 

He watches in slow motion the woman’s lifeless body fall to the ground, blood pouring from her head and Peter goes blank. The next thing he remembers is the cops showing up and the criminals are all webbed up. He barely has enough energy to make it up to the rooftops again. 

Peter’s vision shakes, his legs tremble, and he aches all over, still bleeding from the bullet wound from minutes ago. 

He has to keep his promise. 

—-

It took an hour before he worked up the nerve to stand at the edge. Peter decided to drop his mask along with his web shooters. No going back now. 

Tears filled his eyes and a smile formed on his lips. Despite causing so much hurt for everyone, after letting another person die because he wasn’t good enough, well at least he’ll be gone now. He can’t hurt anyone now. 

Not May, not Uncle Ben, not Ned, MJ or Liz.

Not even Tony. 

Wind drifted through his hair and he absentmindedly wondered if he would feel it. _There’s only one way to find out._

He took a step forward and jumped. 

Peter could see the ground get closer and closer. He decided to do it somewhere not so didn’t want to traumatize anyone else. 

Probably another six seconds before he’s gone. 

Snapshots of his life flash before his eyes, it’s everything wrong he’s ever done and all the worst moments of his life playing on a loop. At least it’ll be over now. 

Four seconds left and there’s a slight mechanical whirl filling the air. It must be some machinery near by. Peter closes his eyes. 

Three seconds. It sounds like the noise is in his ears, it’s so close. Hopefully he hits the floor before he finds out what it is. He smiles. 

Two. 

Metal closes around his free falling body and holds him tight. They go from falling down to going straight across, even in his foggy state of mind he realizes that whatever it is, they’re trying to slow down the force from falling so that he wouldn’t get hurt being stopped immediately, possibly snapping bones, tenants or nerves. 

When they touch the ground, he blacks out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’ALL IM CRYING IM NKT FUCKING READY FIR INFINJTY WAR FUCJ


	2. Let Me Bleed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning! Graphic descriptions of self harm!! Please stay safe, I love you guys all!!

When he woke up, there was one distinct voice calling his name. 

Or was it his name? Everything was so fuzzy, is this what death feels like?

No. 

He’s still very much alive. He failed at yet another thing, great. 

“Peter, come on, open your eyes buddy” he hears the voice call again, pleading almost. He gives in. 

When his eyes open, dots still dance around his vision, but the very prominent face of Tony Stark could not be obstructed by his own body giving up on him. 

“Okay that’s it, keep them open, I need you to stay awake, listen, I’m going to fly us to the tower, but I need you to stay awake” Tony instructed, he sounded so far away.

Even his still dazed state, Peter could feel his own anger get then better half of him. He pulled himself up off the ground where he had been laid down on and when the familiar red and yellow metal arms reached to push him back down, Peter used all his energy to fling the hands off of himself.

Every breath was difficult but the teen had managed to get into some sort of sluggish fighting position, ready to fight his way out. Every part of his body burned. The bullet was still in his torso, several gashes on his legs were still trying to fix themselves and he’s broken at least half of his bones in his left arm at this point. However, Peter clings to the feeling of pain, using its sharp sting to cut through the fogginess of his brain just enough to try to find a way out of this. With no mask to talk to Karen, no webshooters, it was up to just pure brains to get out of this one. And even that was hard right now.

He aimed a punch but the other man had dodged it. 

“Pete, I don’t want to hurt you, just come with me, please” 

He doesn’t respond. His jaw sets with determination.

“I just want to talk” adds, desperation seeping through.

Tony might’ve wanted to talk but Peter sure as hell didn’t. He had everything in place just for this moment and now it’s ruined and he knew that if he said even just one word, he’d crack. 

So many people have died because of him, it was only fair he should die too. But he didn’t want to have to fight right now. It was just too much, he can’t hurt Tony, battling him just so he could kill himself. It would only hurt himself more.

It must’ve been obvious on his face because Tony opened the suit and walked right out.

The sudden change of the situation caught Peter off guard and the next thing he knew, strong arms were wrapped around him, holding him tight, embracing him in a hug. 

“Peter, hey, can we just talk?” he says with a kind of gentleness the teen has never heard before. 

Tears rimmed his eyes and he thinks bitterly to himself that he shouldn’t be enjoying this, that he deserves nothing but pain and suffering, that even death was more than he deserved but he was too coward to stay alive. 

Peter could barely choke out a “Yeah” before he was sobbing. Faces flooded his vision, each one twisted with a mixture of anger, sadness and disappointment. All the faces that haunted his nightmares, all the people he was supposed to protect, all the people he let down. 

“Let’s go back to the tower, kiddo” he says, voice just above a whisper. 

The teenager can’t talk so all he does is nod. 

—-

Tony has been going crazy for the past three weeks. First, he finds out that May had died, then, when he tried to reach out to the kid, he’s gone. The man had planted trackers in his phone and suit but Peter must’ve taken them out so it was up to him to figure out where he went. 

The next weeks were spent hardly sleeping, pouring over local news channels watching for anything about a certain teenaged vigilante in red and blue spandex. He tried to use the baby monitor protocol to his advantage, to find where he was or watch live feed and figure out what was happening. The AI he built in the suit wouldn’t even patch in his own calls that he programmed to always accept. Peter must’ve also tinkered with that too. 

Wherever he was, he didn’t want to be found. 

It wasn’t until earlier today, there was a news reporter standing outside a bank. An active robbery with hostages being taken care of by Spiderman. 

By the time he got to the scene of the crime, it was already done. The criminals were being locked up and an ambulance was zipping up a body bag. 

There was a causality. 

His blood went ice cold. Peter was the sweetest kid in the world, but even he could top Tony’s own amount of guilt ten times over. 

It was almost impressive how he could turn a situation around and make the antagonist the hero and make himself the one at fault. Usually that’s what Tony did, but Peter could run circles around him at that game, and it hurt him to know that he felt that way. 

So when he realizes there’s a casuality, he’s damn sure he needs to find that kid _now._

“FRIDAY, scan for heat signatures.” He commands. 

Peter definitely left the area, but if he knows the kid, he wouldn’t have gotten far. 

When he sees in the distance what looks like a teenager standing a little too close to the edge of a roof, he freezes. 

At first he thought Peter was going to shoot a web and swing away, but when he took off his mask and started falling...

Tony doesn’t think he’s ever flown so fast in his life. 

——

Peter doesn’t remember much of what happened on their flight back to the tower, but now he’s sitting on an examination table with Tony who has yet to leave his side. 

He stopped crying but his eyes were still red, and now, being able to see his mentor’s face better under the light, he can see his eyes were red too. 

Tony looked more tired than the teenager had ever seen in his life. Purple bruises revealing how little sleep he was getting, and is hair was dirty and disheveled. 

“I’m sorry” Peter whispers, looking down at his hands. They were shaking and he didn’t know why. It could be malnutrition, anxiety, adrenaline, or a number of other things. 

It was probably a combination of them all. 

“Peter, do you know how scared I was? How worried I was?” Even his voice sounded exhausted

He continued staring at his hands. 

“Kid, if I wasn’t there in time I-“ his voice broke, Peter could feel the guilt creeping over him again, crawling up his throat and choking him. 

Tony took a second to compose himself again “I care a lot about you, Pete, and if you... _left_ —that would be on me”

The guilt was hurting him, clawing Peter from the inside out with all of the other painful emotions following. Anger shredded inside while desperation tried to escape. Saddness weighed down his body while numbness controlled the brain. 

“I’m sorry” was the only thing he could whisper without completely exploding. 

There was a pause before Tony picked the conversation back up.

“The doctors need to check for any injuries, you look pretty beat up as is, and after that they might give you an IV or just tell you to get some bed rest. They already know about the mutation so don’t sweat it. I’ll be here in the back the whole time.”

——

It was heartbreaking to say the least. Watching the kid who, only months ago, was bouncing off of the walls with energy, eyes bright with happiness and future ahead of himself gone and replaced with the broken teenager in front of him. 

Peter’s cheeks were hollow and sunk in. His eyes were dull and lost their shine, black smudges showing how tired he was. 

When he removed the suit for the doctors, his entire body was just covered in bruises varying in degrees. Turns out his healing factor must have been taking a toll while he was on the run. 

There were several gashes that looked like they were starting to scab and a few bullet wounds. There was still one that had yet to be removed and he winced when they took it out.

After getting over the initial injuries he saw, he realized how skinny the kid had gotten. His spine stuck right out and his collar bones were raised. His ribcage was also very visible and now Tony felt guilty for not finding him faster. 

They asked when the last time he ate was. 

Peter said he didn’t. 

Even after all of that, the worst part of it all was how quiet he was. The silence was deafening and it was strangling Tony alive. Peter was usually a chatterbox, especially when he had gotten over his habit of stuttering in front of the billionaire, he just couldn’t be shut up. 

It was terrifying how different he was now. 

——

 

He couldn’t sleep. Even if he wanted to, and he really fucking wanted to. 

The doctors let him stay in his room, they stitched him up and told him he needed to eat so that his healing factor could speed back up again, otherwise he healed just as fast, if not, slower, than normal, healthy people. 

Now he’s wide awake laying down on his surprisingly comfortable bed, feeling everything inside him try to force its way out. 

They gave him some dinner to eat. He brought it to his room, but he never even touched it. He feels too sick to eat right now. 

Those feelings haven’t stopped attacking him since he started talking with Tony—well more like Tony talking _to_ him. It’s just now, at night, it just feels amplified. 

It was suffocating, he wanted them out. 

Peter wanted all of it out. 

They were crawling right under his skin, he just wants them out, just to feel something else other than the dull throbbing ache of it all. 

Suddenly, he gets an idea. 

Peter rummages through his backpack, which thankfully Tony had found and brought back because it contains the one thing he needs right now. 

In his bag, he had a basic change of clothes, some money, deodorant, and a razor. 

The razor is what he needs right now. 

When he found the object, he removed the blade from it. Peter used one of those razors where you put the blade in manually, and it actually shaves way better than those gross plastic disposable ones. Costs less too. 

He doesn’t really shave, but it was just one of the few things he had managed to grab before running and now he’s glad he did take it.

With a shaking hand, he lifted it up, examining it. 

No, he wasn’t going to slit his wrists. At least not now. 

he was stupid to think that JARVIS wouldn't snitch. A few cuts wouldn't be enough to set anything off, so it would be safe.

Right now, all he wanted was for those _things_ to get out of him. 

Peter knew they still wanted to do more tests, which means being shirtless. His healing factor wasn’t doing well so if he wanted to hurt himself, it would need to be on his hips, where no one could see. 

Pulling down a section of his pants exposing his pale right hipbone, he takes the blade and presses down on his skin, cutting himself. 

He smiles at the pain and watches as the blood beads up at first, then falls. For just a second, it feels like everything stopped, the pain cutting through all of the ugliness in his brain, but then it returns. 

He takes the blade and draws another line. An another. And another. 

When he’s finished, there’s about eight cuts, each different levels of severity, thr worst being a quarter inch deep. 

Peter feels more exhausted than he ever has, but for once, he feels better. In a sick, twisted way, he feels better. Only until it stops again. 

_‘No wonder why people do this, it’s like a drug. Painkiller’_ He thinks to himself as he starts to doze off. He laughs.

Painkiller

Except this time, you need the pain to get rid of the other. 

——

_A cool breeze flew through his hair, the late night city light lighting his path. Peter didn't know where he was going, but he knew he needed to get out. Suddenly Uncle Ben is there. He knows whats about to happen, a strange knowing screaming in the back of his mind like an alarm that wouldn't shut off._

_A gunshot sounds, Ben's bleeding on the floor._

_Now he's in his apartment, May's lying on the floor. Had he seen the signs, had he taken to her to the doctor.._

_The scene changes, gravestones sit in front of him. They seem to go on forever, the names were blurred, but he knew every single person there. It was his fault._

_Something is choking him, strangling him. It comes up from behind, knocking him to the ground before having a chance to defend._

_He can't fight. He deserve this._

_It's his fault_  
\----

Peter lurches forward, gulping the air down greedily. He checks the time and its almost 10 o'clock in the morning. 

His heart hammers in his chest as he swings two shaking legs over the side of the bed to sit up.

With his heightened senses, he can hear footsteps coming from the start of the long hallway. Peter's hands grip the bed sheets and whispered something to himself out loud.

"Come on, Parker. Keep it together, just pretend like how you used to before" he says before the door opens.

Tony appears, a concerned smile plastered on his face. It was sickening. 

He had painted one on of his own, donning the mask he could never remove once more. 

"Hey, Pete" he says, hanging on the door frame. His eyes glide over to the untouched tray of food "I jut wanted to check how you were doing. I made some breakfast if you want to eat something"

“Oh okay, I’ll be there in a bit, I just want to take a shower first” he says, trying to keep his tone light. 

Tony nods “alright, I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me”

When the man leaves, Peter sighs. God he forgets how tiring this is. 

It’s going to be one hell of a day. 

——

After he got out of the shower, he had to carefully dry himself off. His healing was apparently working on something else so his cuts were still very much there and they still hurt. The skin was raised and an angry red from the hot water. He had to pat around carefully to not tear it open again. 

Looking at the mirror, he smiled. His hips were painted red. 

Peter quickly dressed, heading down to the kitchen to “eat” breakfast. 

Honestly, he felt so sick to his stomach, if he had anything more than some water, he would puke it back up. But instead of telling that to Tony, he’s going to make an excuse that yesterday he was so tired, he just fell asleep and try to eat whatever he can manage in front of Tony right now. 

They eat in silence and Peter can feel the pity pouring off of the billionaire. Now, his finders twitch for that familiar cold piece of metal that makes his skin bleed. 

Tony asks a couple of questions, mostly asking how he was feeling. Peter lies some more, it’s second nature at this point. 

“Why did you jump, Peter?” He asks suddenly. It catches the teen off guard and he nearly chokes on his water. 

“Wh-what?” He coughs 

“You know what I meant” Tony’s eyes bore into his own. 

“I, uh, I didn’t mean to. I know this sounds like I’m lying, but I swear I didn’t. I was so tired, and like, there were these black spots and um, i thought they were in my mask, so i tried taking it off. When I jumped off, I realized I didn’t have my web launchers on, I was so exhausted from the fight before, I-I didn’t realize i took them off.” He lies easily, the story sounding passable. 

Tony looks like he doesn’t necessarily believe it, but he doesn’t disagree “I get it kid. We get those moments, that’s why I need you to not work yourself to that point. I’m here for you kid, if you ever need to talk. I know what happened recently, and I’m here, I’ve always been here for you” he finishes. 

Bullshit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried clearing some things up so hopefully that helped, next chapter will be super angsty but it should get better at the end. Maybe I’ll add another chapter just to make it flow better. Idk, tell me what y’all think 
> 
> (Also, guys, ur comments are awesome they motivate me to write more so pls if u like my stories or anyone else’s, comment!!)


	3. Let Me Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Those things still crawl under his skin, begging to be let free meanwhile, Tony starts to see the darkness hiding within Peter as he begins to understand what's going through his head.
> 
> Basically, Peter's still depressed, and now he's filled to the brim with stress and sadness that he's finally boiling over and Tony's there to listen and help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I may or may not be adding an extra chapter. I just really want this to flow nicely and I end up underestimating how much I want to write and then next thing I know it I'm 1,500 words in and I haven't gotten to the point yet

He hid for most of the day. Not wanting to interact with anyone. It was too tiring right now. Pretending to be the happy go-lucky teenager that never got sad. It made him feel sick. 

After eating breakfast, Tony let let him run back to his room. Peter was relieved, but also slightly confused. He could tell that his mentor didn’t 100% believe his story, and he was never one for letting things go. 

It’s probably because he feels bad for the teen. 

Just thinking of his pitying face makes his skin crawl. Makes those _things_ start scratching him from the inside out. Peter needed them out even still. 

It just felt so wrong. Everything feels wrong. Wrong. Wrong. _Wrong. Wrong. **Wrong. WRONG!**_

His heart hurts with an aching pain, both sharp and ripping, but also dull and sore. It feels so wrong. Like something is trying to tear away his last bit of sanity from within, but also like its trying to hold on so tightly, that its going to give out.

The only thing he can think of doing to get rid of the twisted gnawing pain was to use that ugly piece of sharp metal. It's the only way to help.

\-----

The next time Peter leaves his room is when JARVIS informs him that dinner’s ready and Tony is there waiting for him.

He still doesn't feel like eating, but he goes down anyways. As the elevator doors open, he plasters on a fake smile, nothing too much, but a slight quirk of his lips. Just enough to make it look like he was happy. 

His head hurt badly, a terrible splitting headache. He tried to focus on that instead of those things beneath his skin. No matter what he did, they were always there, they would only ever quiet for a few minutes before coming back even angrier than before. It took all his energy to act like normal.

By the time he finished, he had forced himself to talk just a little bit about school or something just to get to air of normalcy back with Tony and himself. The words he spoke at breakfast still ringing in his ears.

"I'm here for you kid" the words echo continuously in his mind. Its distracting.

Peter makes a move to leave the table, but before he could reach the door, Tony gets his attention.

"Hey, by the way, I haven't seen too much of you lately, so I'll be down in my workshop if you want to help me go over some new designs for the Iron-Man suit. Maybe we could also trick out your suit too" the man said, his voice sightly upturned, sounding hopeful.

Part of him wanted to refuse, to go back in his room and let whatever thoughts consume him entirely until hopefully nothing would be left. But another part, buried deep deep down secretly ached to go down there. Even just for a moment, being in the workshop, messing around with tools and such, something healthy to distract him with someone he really does care about. 

He could remember only weeks ago, that even on his worst days, the ones where he felt like just getting up to turn off the alarm clock was too much to bare and the gun in the robber's hand looked a little too appealing, even those days, hanging out with Tony and working on suits always made him feel better again. 

"Sure, I'll work with you" he said, and for the first time, the creatures clawing beneath the surface seemed to completely go away.

\----

"Mind handing me that torch, kiddo" Tony said, not looking up from the new repulsors he was constructing

Peter made a lunge to grab at it before the older man opened his eyes wide in realization "Wait actually don't-that is not a tool for young arachnid teenagers" 

"I can grab it just fine, Tony" 

"I know you can, but I'm still supposed to be a 'responsible adult' or whatever that is anyways" he tries to joke.

"Hardy Har Har, you're so very funny." Peter says, voice full of sarcasm 

"Ooh, better watch out, you're starting to sound like me, buddy" 

"If I sounded like you, I would hardly call people by their actual names and just give them nicknames" he challenges

"Touché"

For a while they worked in comfortable silence with Tony's playlist of AC/DC and Black Sabbath playing in the background. (A few of Peter's favorites may have been added in, but Tony would never admit that he did it.) It wasn't for another 20 minutes until the billionaire broke the silence, announcing that he had finished with the first repulsor and now only needed to duplicate it to get the other arm.

"Alright, I should just check to see if it actually works like how I want it to before I go and make another one" he says under his breath "Now..what to aim for"

"Aim for me" Peter laughs, his cynical humor getting the best of him, despite actually wanting to be dead right now. 

"No, I just saved you from falling to your death, I'm not going to shoot you right after" he says, slightly hurt by the fact that he could tell that the teen was still very much not okay.

Truth was that he didn't believe a single word that came out of his mouth when he explained why and how he fell from that building. Not a word. Sure, by itself, the whole story sounded plausible, he saw spots, took off his mask to try and see better then went on to continue spiderman-ing but forgot he removed his web launchers. Sounds like something that could happen, except he _knows_ that that's not what happened. His aunt died, there was a causality at the bank, he had been starving himself and after hacking his way back through Peter's suit, Karen told him that the kid hadn't slept either and did nothing to keep himself from getting hurt in battle. 

So there was no doubt in his mind that Peter really did try to kill himself and Tony had no idea what scared him more, that he tried to, or that he was almost too late to save him.

"Yeah but it would be fun" the teen keeps going, a twisted smile painted on his lips.

"Why would I want to shoot you though?" He asks, realizing that this might be the way to get some information from the kid

"Um, I think I wrote a list somewhere..." he pretends to feel his pockets "Huh, must've lost it, just like everyone else I care about" he laughs darkly

Now is when Tony begins to notice something is definitely off here. The older man can see the sadness in his eyes that shouldn't have to exist for a fifteen year old kid. 

"What do you mean?"

"What? I'm an orphan. My parents—I was six. My uncle—I was 14. My aunt—15. It's part of my whole Parker Luck thing. Might as well get me now before I claim your life too" Peter continues laughing, arching over a desk to tinker with his spider-man suit, not bothering to look up

"Come on kid, don't talk like that" okay, now it was time to _really_ be concerned. This did _not_ sound like Peter and it was starting to freak Tony out. 

"Why not, its like-like my _birthright_ to be like this" he looks up but his back is facing the billionaire "Its kind of an achievement reward thing, right? After a certain amount of people around you die, you get to talk however you want? You lose a certain amount of things—have a tragic life—then you can be as depressing as you want" he goes back down to work on the tech again

"No that's—Peter—look" he gave an exasperated sigh "Kiddo, I feel like we need to talk about this" 

"Nah I think I'm good"

"I don't care if you think you're good. Peter, I caught you _jumping off a fucking building_! I _know_ we need to talk about this!" he could feel himself starting to hyperventilate.

His heart rate spiked and his chest felt a little too tight, but Tony had to work through this. 

“I’m sorry, I just really shouldn’t have come down here” Peter switched his tone entirely, sounding guilty. 

“Don’t be sorry kid, please, just tell me what’s up and I’ll help you fix it. We can fix this together” 

There’s a pause and for a second, Tony thinks that the teen didn’t even hear him, but then “No. We can’t fix it, _I_ can’t fix this.” 

He puts down the tools he was using then turns to face his mentor “I’m really sorry. I should’ve just stayed up in my room, you don’t need to be bothered with my problems”

“But that’s the thing, Pete, I _want_ you to bother me with your problems. I want to be there so that you don’t ever have to get to this point because _trust me_ kiddo, once you get here it’s hard to go back”

Peter stares as his hands and can feel everything clawing it’s way out. He thinks that if he stares for just long enough, he could see the faint movement caused from within. It hurts. 

“Tell me what’s going on, Peter” Tony says, his voice unusually gentle. 

The kid slumps down into a chair next to the workbench and mumbles a response barely audible. “I don’t want to be alive”

Tony had been expecting this, but when the words came tumbling out of the teenagers mouth, it felt like his whole world stopped. He wanted to say something but he couldn’t find the right thing to say, lucky for him Peter kept on going. 

“I don’t want to be alive and it really sucks” he says a little louder “Everyday, it was just getting so hard. I was getting so depressed and it wasn’t until one day it was too hard to just get dressed, eating was too much work, and everything the kids say at school hurt so much worse was when I realized that I was really depressed” 

Tears filled Peter’s eyes as he tried to explain everything to his mentor. 

“A-and I still had to pretend to be happy because that’s how I’m supposed to always be, right?! And I couldn’t do that to aunt May—I—she would be so hurt, I couldn’t do that to her.” A tear rolled down his face and he brushed it away immediately. 

“Kid I—I didn’t know..you should’ve said something”

“I couldn’t. I’m supposed to be the happy one. I can’t ever be sad. Nothing ever-“ his voice broke and another tear fell down “nothing ever brings me down. I’m just weak and that’s why I’m like this. I’m not strong enough and never will be.”

“Peter, you’re 15 and dealing with stuff that even superheroes like me have a hard time dealing with as an adult”

“But I’m _supposed to_ be able to handle this! I shouldn’t need help because I shouldn’t need it! I’ve had bad things happen to me all my life and I should be used to it by now!” He says even louder, voice cracking at different points. 

They both go quiet for a moment, unsure of what to say before Peter continues again “It’s just really hard when it feels like the entire universe is out to get you and you’re the only one fighting in your corner” he confesses 

“Well you’ve got me now kiddo, I’ll fight for you until my last breath” Tony tells him, and he really means it. That kid will be the death of him one day, and he was surely getting grey prematurely because of the stress, but it’s always worth it.

“I’ve failed so many people, they’re all dead and I could’ve stopped it in some way, I just don’t want you to become like them, Tony” he looks up to make eye contact “You’re the only person I have left”

That was the thing that made the billionaire completely deflate. Every word he wanted to say, all thoughts and ideas were completely gone. Those seven words knocked the wind out of him and now he has no idea how to respond.

“I’m so scared that you’re going to go too, so I’d rather leave first” Peter made no attempt to stop the now freely falling tears from his eyes as he finishes his thought “I just want to die”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lowkey write this stuff as a way for me to vent bc personally I don't really have someone I can vent to or I can have to make me feel better. I was in a really dark period of my life and there was no one out there to save me when I wanted to throw myself off a building. I'm doing a lot better now, but I slip up sometimes, and for anyone whose going through recovery, its okay if you don't get better immediately. Recovery is not linear. I used to really want someone like Tony to talk to, but there wasn't anyone. I don't want anyone to feel like how I felt, so if I can't have a Tony, I'll be a Tony. I said it once before on one of my other fics, but if y'all need someone to talk to, you can contact me on tumblr @/marvelherosaredorks instagram @/genericresponse or email me directly at imtooobsessedformyowngood@gmail.com I might take a while to respond, but I promise I will.


	4. Let Me Survive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t know how to end it ok. I panicked.

Peter had said those words so easily, and that in it of itself felt like a hard blow in the gut. It felt so final, something so _different_ than what he expected. It knocked the wind right out of him.

Tony didn't have any words. Who would? When their kid just announces that they tried killing themselves and would do it if it meant that they would't have to watch someone else they love die, who would know what to say?

So he didn't say anything, withing seconds, he had his arms wrapped around the fifteen year old and tried his hardest to keep back the tsunami of emotions that were trying to drown him. Peter seemed shocked by the hug, like it was something so foreign to him, it didn't seem like a concept he was used to and that made him hurt more. This boy has been starved of happiness and love, and even before May had gone, the kid was just... he was just _empty_ and trying to handle it all on his own.

 _I guess like father, like son_ he thinks bitterly to himself. 

Peter's arms had tightened around his torso and he buried his face deep into his mentor's shirt, the scent of motor oil mixing with Tony's apple shampoo and it all reminded him of _home_.

His heart hurt and he misses Aunt May and he wants to stay up all night texting Ned again, and he wishes he could go back to detention with MJ drawing people in distress and hanging out in the lab and he just misses _normal_.

When he started crying this time, he didn't try wiping it away.

"shh, it's alright, you're alright" Tony had murmured into his hair while rubbing circles on his back.

Who knows how long they stayed there like that, but it didn't matter to the man, all that mattered to him was that his kid was right here with him and that he would get the help he deserves. So when the sun had set and Peter was asleep but still clinging onto him tightly, he still stayed there. The only movement he made was to sit on the couch where thye’d both be more comfortable and the man slowly drifted to sleep as well. 

\----------

Soon, Tony and Peter had begun to open up to each other. After what they now refer to as the ‘Lab Confession’, the teen had forced himself to talk about things that bother him, which definitely helped with the _things_ crawling under his skin. Tony tried to make more of an effort to be around to listen.

Things didn’t go back to normal immediately.

Peter’s not sure if anything will ever go back to normal.

So much has happened, any sense of normalcy he once had is gone...but it’s not so bad anymore. 

Three weeks after everything had occurred was when he decided to talk about the cutting. 

There was a little bit of crying from both of them, but overall, Tony was so happy that he told him about it and that it meant progress. 

Peter sees a therapist, it’s not bad at all like how media tries to make it sound. Everyone needs help from time to time, and Ms. Rose was another person that was here to help him. 

Things are different, May won’t come back, he can’t go back home at the apartment, he’s tried to kill himself already and Peter is not the same person, but now Tony is always in the kitchen when he wakes up, singing some silly song to himself while he makes the two of them some pancakes. They watch movies together with anyone else who stumbles into the common room. He talks to a therapist and takes some medication that helps his depression. He’s started to talk to Ned and MJ while he’s been out of school(“They know about May and I let them know that I’ve got some tutors helping you out until you’re ready to go back”) and it’s so great. 

It gets hard, like really fucking hard sometimes, but Tony is here, and as much as he wants to say he’s a terrible father figure, Peter thinks he’s been doing pretty well so far. 

“Kiddo, you are going to be the death of me” he ruffles the teen hair affectionately as they watched reruns of The Office

“You love me” he grins

Tony sighs “Yeah, I guess I do”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just wanted to tell all of you guys that I’m not sure if I’ll be able to continue posting stuff. I’m kind of relapsing again and I’m highkey suicidal and I’ve just had one of the worst days ever and I wanted to at least finish all the drafts and works that I haven’t even posted before I killed myself but I’m not sure if I can keep going. For everyone else out there, I know you can do it, keep going, keep breathing, tell someone something. I wish I could talk to people but I really can’t, please don’t be like me. Be better. I don’t believe in myself, but I believe in all of you. EDIT: Thank you guys for all the comments and motivating words and as of now, I’m in a much better place. I still struggle but I’m getting there. If you want someone to talk to, I’m here to listen and I’m not goin anywhere any time soon.


End file.
